


You want what?

by Hypatia_66



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 11:43:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypatia_66/pseuds/Hypatia_66
Summary: Best place to hide a microdot?





	You want what?

**You want what?**

His partner hadn’t been gone long, but he was already feeling uneasy. It was a simple affair, really. The trouble was, the volume wasn’t kept on the open shelves of a library for the simple reason that it would be in tatters within hours. It would _have_ to be obtained by special request, to be retrieved by some specially trusted minion with a key, from a locked store in the basement containing unsavoury, fragile, or otherwise embargoed books. Mind, it wasn’t a book many people were likely to actually ask for, unless they were peculiarly uncaring about being overheard. That was why the microdot had been put there in the first place, so it should be safe enough and easy to find.

The thing was, his partner, his friend, a man of sternly repressed sensuality, was also very reserved, even shy; and likely to be so embarrassed, that he might fall at the first hurdle. He could _not_ see him standing at a library enquiry desk and asking out loud for the book – whoever was sitting there. He should have gone with him. No, perhaps not, that might have looked worse. It would look less like a routine request and more like something exceedingly distasteful. The idea of two grown men playing find-the-microdot in a pop-up book, and moreover in a pop-up edition of so remarkable a text (Indian, wasn’t it? Beautifully illustrated – naturally), was at best farcical, at worst … well it didn’t bear thinking about. Of course, one could claim a sea-green incorruptible interest in paper engineering, but he didn’t think that would wash, somehow.

***

The young man behind the desk looked at the small, dark-suited, figure before him, and gulped. There was no-one near enough to hear, but nevertheless he whispered, “You want _what_ , sir?”

“It’s quite simple,” the mild-mannered deviant said, in his precisely-accented (and carrying) tones, “I imagine you require me to fill in a special request form to retrieve a fragile and easily-damaged example of paper engineering from your special store.”

“I do?”

“I should think so. Should we call your supervisor and check?”

“ _No!_ ” he squeaked hoarsely, and cleared his throat. “No need… There _is_ a form. Here – if you could just fill in the details… Thank you… I’ll go myself… would you care to wait… somewhere?”

“Certainly. I’ll wait over there.”

The young man returned a little while later, somewhat breathless, with what looked like a child’s picture book – a slim volume with a shocking-pink cover – clutched, half hidden, under his coat. He beckoned, and took the unlikely weirdo into a private office where he could supervise the examination of this fragile-and-easily-damaged-example-of-paper-engineering.

His eyes widened as the pages were turned and small figures rose into action, playing on … a trapeze? riding on … and... good grief... but, “Isn’t it clever!” he said.

“Isn’t it,” agreed the other, absently. “Ah, got it.” He ran a finger over one of the tabs that made the little figures move, gently pushed it back, and closed the book. “OK, you can have it back now. Thanks.” And he wiped his finger carefully on a handkerchief.

“Is that all you want to see?”

“Yep. Finished. I see you’re interested, so I assume you’re familiar with the text of Vatsyayana’s _Kama Sutra_ , and no doubt you recognise the very attractive Indian illustrations. It’s the Burton and Arbuthnot translation, of course – and I’m sure you’ll agree with me that this very vulgar cover isn’t entirely appropriate.”

“No. Yes… I mean no,” he said, trying to avoid looking at the central figures on the cover, and concentrating on the pink colour and the flowers; and found he was talking to himself.

He’d gone. Just like that… Strange guy.

********************

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This improbable book really exists; it is far from obscene, and, depending on your susceptibilities, barely erotic, though highly entertaining.  
> It was published in 2003 so I’ve had to be more than a little anachronistic with the facts of publication and the history of paper engineering. Couldn’t resist.
> 
> Sea-green incorruptible: famous epithet applied to the French Revolutionary, Robespierre.


End file.
